


plague

by phasmasarmor



Series: always, evermore, and on and on [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Other, Slow To Update, The Gang Goes On a Mission, deadnaming tw, writer is in school
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21752488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phasmasarmor/pseuds/phasmasarmor
Summary: The Master of the Knights of Ren deserves no recuperation time.The Supreme Leader has been busy in his apprentice's absence, and Kylo and his Knights of Ren are sent to Coradonna - a planet quarantined a year ago.
Series: always, evermore, and on and on [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1474871
Kudos: 4





	plague

The suns are dipping just below the large hill their shuttle settled on, and with it, the Knights of Ren’s own spirits lowered. The eerie silence unnerved even Kylo, so much so that the faintest sigh of breeze brought a chill down his spine with the suddenness of it. Still, on the downward trek to the sprawling valley city of Ethis, the Knights made sure to keep as quiet as they could. All communication was done only out of necessity and through their thoughts.

Helisma brushes against his arm again, deliberately. It had been three hours since their arrival on Coradonna and she has been tethered to his side by an invisible chain the whole time. The chain is not one of his making, or hers. It was a bond forged by the Force, and they simply tended to it like a shared pet. Her comfort is always given freely to him, and though he may not be so good at returning it, there is no price to his own. Her comfort, this time around, brings a sense of normalcy back into his life, seeping from the simple and warm graze of her arm and spreading through his veins rapidly like a drug. 

Kylo recalls his last mission, then, and the disrupt it brought had brought him. The crash, the fear for Vierri and even _Hux_. Hux hadn't yet left his mind, sitting at the very edge of each thought in wait for the next time his thoughts turned to him ever since Kylo had carried him down to medbay. Their goodbyes had been professional and very rather brief. Hux had thanked him for saving his life and while those green eyes pierced his own, it was more like Hux was staring through him rather than at him _._ Not that Kylo had truly minded the brevity of the situation, nor was it that he did not feel the grief. It was simply that Kylo had helped him and the gratitude felt empty. 

_Up ahead,_ Hawke interrupts, and the memory of Hux's distant gaze shatters, leaving the man on the edge of Kylo's mind once more. _Hirsidae. Sleeping, but we should give it wide berth._

Kylo nods once. Hisidae, according to Hawke's brief on them in the shuttle here, are quite aggressive beasts that spend a good majority of their lives sleeping, and the rest on the hunt for their next meal. Not so keen on becoming the latter, Kylo scans the trees around them.

The creature sleeps peacefully in the shade of a golden alder tree, unperturbed by the Knights of Ren's company. The pink and green floral patterns of its fur glow yellow, reflections of the leaves in the canopy above. Most of the forest appears to glow, warm in the dying light. 

_We could just kill it_. Titus, the second to ever hold the title as a Knight of Ren, bumps into Kylo's side harshly. Despite the length of their friendship, the urge to pin him to the ground and crush the air from his lungs never seemed to die, and at the moment, Kylo finds that urge rather appealing. _I say we put it out of its misery._

 _You will do no such thing,_ Kylo replies. _We risk facing infection if we near it. We leave_ _it in peace._

Titus' shoulders stiffen as he plays the role of a chastised child defying his parent's very stern order. He knows his place for now and nods, falling back in line behind Kylo. He leads the Knights to the right to grow the distance between their group and the hirsidae and then down a serpentine path to avoid the various crumbling rocks that pock the hillside, gray blemishes on the face of a green-and-gold face. 

"This is an awful path," Titus grunts loudly, earning himself a shove from Hawke. "What? It is, and you know it. We should have slaughtered the beast, taken its hide. It would make quite the rug in the Supreme Leader's throne room."

 _Titus,_ Kylo warns. _Be silent until I say so._

“Or what?” Titus huffs. A year his junior, yet at times, the gap felt like ten. Every argument, no matter the insignificance, turned into a childish back-and-forth between master and apprentice, the master always coming out on top. The apprentice would sulk, complain, bitch, and moan until it came time to beg to come on a mission.

"He will be a petulant child until he's fifty," the Supreme Leader had uttered to him once in the refuge of the throne room. "Though now, I find that he will be so lucky to see such an age."

Kylo hadn't agreed with the Supreme Leader at first, but as time wore on, his wisdom proved correct as always.

_Or—_

A roar calls their attention from above. The last of the sunlight illuminates the mountainous creature from behind, pink and green fur alight with shades of emerald and rose. It is on its hind legs, taller than any creature Kylo has ever seen before. It would be beautiful, in other circumstances. Absolutely breathtaking, in fact! But not when the beast is in such close proximity, not when the beast is deprived of its much-needed sleep, and not when it must be starving for prey it can give chase to.

Kylo looks to Titus and says plainly, “Or you’ll wake it up.”

The beast roars once more, kicking up dust as it takes off down the hill. 

Jera takes it upon himself to command that they run, and they do, though the prompting is rather unnecessary. The beast pursues them over patches of ivy that threaten to tangle their feet and through brambles that snag at their robes; over hills, and under toppled trees. There is no time to utter so much as a curse but the hefty weight of fear that holds his shoulders makes it nearly impossible not to let the stray 'fuck' fall from his lips. Each breath is harsh and paced to keep from suffocating or tiring too quickly. This is not the first time he's been chased, nor would it ever be the last. This is simply practice, he thinks. Yes. Just practice. 

"There's a house on the ridge!" Hawke calls. 

A large mansion of white stone stands proudly, darkened already by the shade of the hill. The light just barely reaches the tops of the windows, the glass sending a glare his way as he eyes it. Relief floods through them all like water, ebbing the worry away. It can act as a haven and will have to, at least until the knights get their footing on the planet. Kylo has half a mind now to turn, bury the red-hot lightsaber into the hirsidae's stomach hilt-deep, but at what cost? The creature likely bore the illness that had managed to wipe out a world's population seemingly overnight. Such a risk, to have a wound torn open by the animal. He would much rather let his feet carry him into the sanctuary of the stone estate that beckoned so, and the knights will follow as they always did. As they would if he had decided that reason be damned. 

The beast roars once more as they cross the threshold and into the blackening home. Kylo turns to just see its paw take a swipe at Jera before the heavy doors are slammed shut with an effortless flick of the hand. 

"Really?" Titus grunts. "No one thought to just... _flick it_ down the hillside?"

“Once I’m done making sure there are no other doors to be shut,” Hawke exhales sharply in the pause between her words, “I’m going to come back and kick your ass.”

Titus grunts, more beast than human, more child than man. “As if Kylo will let you!" he says with a puerile cry, but Hawke only gives an obscene gesture in response before disappearing down the dark foyer. 

Kylo grunts, "Don't be so sure about that, Titus. It would serve you right." 

Titus begins to argue with something, something about the Supreme Leader and how he would disapprove of the retribution - _untrue,_ Kylo reminds himself _, he would love it, Titus is wrong, ALWAYS wrong_! He takes a deep breath, calming the growing rage inside of him by looking around the large living room.

The walls are the same white stone, decorated with large crystal windows in varying shades of pinks, blues, oranges. The same colors, he notes, as the drying flowers in the vase on the end table. The setting sun casts the colors onto the vaulted ceiling, where they mix in sharp angles. Kylo, turning, looks to the opposite side of the room and stops abruptly. 

A large portrait, painted, sits above the fireplace, occupying a large section of the wall it occupies. It features a family of five, all in dark clothing, all but two with dark hair. Those two are thin, with hair like amber and gold, with the very same frown etched upon their lips. 

"Shit," he mutters.

 _What?_ Helisma appears at his back and her gaze must follow his own because she swiftly follows it up with, _Oh. Is that...?_

"So it seems." 

His personal haunting. Kylo Ren hadn't thought, just a few months ago, that he would be so haunted by General Hux. The ghost of a living man that follows him so easily, a green-eyed specter attached to his subconscious. The same green eyes follow him now as he steps closer. But the specter in his thoughts differs greatly to the Hux he sees glaring down at him. His cheeks are round and cherubic instead of the knife-like sharpness his cheekbones now hold; the bright eyes now sink deep with lack of sleep. He looks more like his father in the painting than himself. 

Kylo tears his eyes away from Hux's soft cheeks to the others. Brendol Hux is easy to spot, ignore, but the third man has dark hair streaked with platinum. No doubt Hux's maternal grandfather; Hux had told him on the _Absolution_ that he had never met the Hux side of his family. Hadn't he said Brendol had cut everyone else off, too? Kylo can only assume that would mean Leora's family, too. Perhaps not, he thinks. Especially now with the evidence of little Vinh Hux in a cadet's uniform standing with them. 

He scans the Taliis' faces, the kind, round cheeks, soft smiles, brown hair that curls so nicely at the ends. But their eyes are so different. Hux's aunt's eyes are a pale shade of gold, much like her mother's, but her father's eyes are the same emerald green of Hux. For a moment, Kylo lets his mind wander and imagine Hux with honey-colored eyes and the dark brown hair of his Talii heritage. He would still sport that sharp angles of his father's side - the Talii's plumper, and all - and he would still be--

"Pretty?" Titus sneers from behind him. 

“Titus."

"That's what you were thinking," Titus says defensively. "If it's any consolation, I think he would look quite nice. That dramatic coloring, you know, and he wouldn't look quite so pale." Titus motions to his own face still hidden beneath the mask. He knows what lies underneath it, a pale white face of sharp angles, hollow cheeks, and pale blue eyes that, despite their color, give the impression of the eyes of a doll rather than a person. 

Kylo turns away from Titus, away from the Taliis and Huxs. There's truth to the assertion that he hadn't quite known what he was going to say, but 'pretty'? No. All that would amount to is endless teasing, and if Hux caught wind of it... That certainly would not be pretty. 

"The General is on your mind often, now. It's hard to get a thought in edgewise," Titus snorts. He runs a finger along the surface of the fireplace, flicking away the dust that coats his gloved finger. "What was it like, sleeping with him?"

"I did not sleep with him." The muscles in Kylo's jaw tighten so much he has to force out the words through gritted teeth. He will admit to the words sounding garbled, worse with the apparatus in place. "We slept in the same room, and not out of choice." It had not been, after all. It had been a necessity, to keep them alive and safe. He ignores the hit of guilt, twisting like a knife in his belly, at the memory of Hux, Vierri that night. Just two nights ago now, and yet it feels so much longer. 

"I should like to know what to expect, when --" 

"Get your head out of your dick."

"Why should I? It's not as unlikely as you may think, you know." 

"I don't think Hux would agree," Hawke says. 

She now stands at the very edge of the living room, free of the hot confines of her helmet. The black helmet glares out at him and Titus, who tenses with her presence. 

“Back so soon, are you? Did you do a thorough check?” he sniffs.

Hawke nods. A few loose black strands from her ponytail fall forward and are brushed back swiftly with the back of her hand. "Adanelie is covering the rest so I can make good of my bloody promise.” 

Before Titus can so much as draw in a breath, Hawke lunges. Quickly it becomes a game of chase, no weapons drawn, and bouts of laughter. Kylo doesn’t care for this sort of roughhousing, especially when the situation is rather serious. Titus could have gotten them killed with his stupidity and petulance, and Hawke is treating it as if he had only taken off with a sweet.

Kylo abandons the knights in the living room and heads up the long, metallic stairs. Adanelie is making a point to avoid the horseplay himself, but he watches from on high, frowning down at the shadows that dart around the in the growing dark below.

“Search for blankets,” Kylo utters.

The Knights of Ren never brought their own blankets or bedrolls. Often, that’s what they used their cloaks for. But blankets are going unused here and for once it would be pleasant not to sleep on the cold ground with nothing but thin leather to warm or comfort them. Kylo briefly thinks of the beds that, too, are unused, but ultimately, he sticks to the idea of blankets; sharing beds with other knights made it harder to sleep, especially when they all decided to bicker about it.

“Yes, sir,” Adanelie replies.

Then he nudges his arm. “There’s like to be a body up here, just by the stench of it. Call me if ye find it? I should like t’see how they died.”

Kylo nods and at once, Adanelie sets off upon his expedition. Kylo’s turns down the opposite side of the hall. There are four open doors on his stretch of the hall and one closed door.

The closed door is etched with silver tendrils of ivy, tinted brown with specks of dust that have settled into the carvings. Kylo traces the patterns with his eyes up to the top of the door, a burst of engraved flower-petals threatening to rain down on anyone who crosses the threshold. Leora’s room, he thinks. Just a feeling.

He moves from that room to the other four, stripping the beds of their dusty sheets and comforters and compiling them in a haphazard mass on the floor in the hall. Kylo returns to the railing and calls for the knights – still fighting or observing the game – to come and shake them out before he returns to the fourth and final door.

With the power out, Kylo must help the door slide along its track and immediately, he sees the tidy room. Even in the dark that has now settled completely over the house, Kylo can see the explosion of pale pink, the very same tint as the petals of a sunny nightshade plant he had seen on Aoetha. Three tall bookshelves line the far side of the room, boasting such a large collection of paper books that Kylo cannot help but let his lips part in awe. Paper books are a rarity and were considered obsolete once the holonet took over. He has never quite seen so many in one place before. Kylo crosses the room and, gingerly, he plucks a book from the first shelf. It’s a weight brown leather book etched with fading yellow lettering across the front. He frowns as he reads the title.

 _Elara’s Fables_ , an assortment of stories from the farthest reaches of the galaxy. A book of Ben’s childhood, one he could have recited by memory alone if asked. Against his better judgment and Helisma’s soft urging for him to return, Kylo Ren lowers himself to the pink bed. A plume of dust explodes upwards, expertly coating his robes in a fine layer as he opens to the first story. As a child, Ben had never understood the lesson behind 'The Knight & the Dragon', though he claimed to love it rather fiercely. 

“They tried to kill him!” Ben’s voice echoes in the room, the memory manifesting before him on Leora Talii’s bed. The pale pink sheets shifted into the tan ones Han and Leia often used. They had just finished the story for the fifth time that night, where the Knight had sworn to exact justice should the desert village raid another ever again. “Why wouldn’t he try to kill them back? He got a dragon!”

“Well,” Han looked from his son, unsure how to go about it, and his wild mass of black curls to his wife. Leia sighed.

“Well, Ben," Leia's words were cautionary and calm. They had just spent the day at the beach, and Ben had taken quite the long nap upon their return. It was nearing bedtime, and he wasn't ready for it, buzzing with energy only a child can possess. "The Jedi aren’t about revenge. They wronged him, but he also understood why. Instead, he made it so no one would have to get hurt by the dragon again, and if the people of the desert continued to hurt the village, he would… Well. He would be able to stop them. That’s the point of the story.”

Ben was eight, just before he’d begun his training. Still wild, and young, and rather dramatic as he flopped himself back onto the bed. “What’s the point of that power if he’s not going to use it? I’d want revenge if that were me.”

Ben and his parents fade away into nothingness, and Kylo comes back to himself. The book's leather spine crackles under his white-knuckle grip and the brittle yellow pages begin to crumble away. Kylo lets the book fall to the bed where another little puff of dust comes up to cover his lap. Rage, his and his alone, wells inside of him and before he knows it, the lightsaber, his extension of himself, is in his hand, ignited and hacking at the bed. Burnt blankets, sheet, mattress, frame, they come crashing to the ground with a crash, glowing bright still where his lightsaber struck them. But the book, the _fucking_ book remains intact, pristine, perfect. 

Kylo breathes out deeply and shakily, the lightsaber deactivating with a howl. It returns to its place against his hip, and the book goes into his robes. If the Supreme Leader has anything to say about his wistful foolishness, he doesn't make it known to his apprentice. He won't wait for the statement to come, for it is seldom good. This room and its suffocatingly pink walls hold no more comfort nor the kindness the good Senator Leora Hux offered.

Outside of the room, Kylo recoils instantaneously. The most putrid scent assaults his nose, bypassing the filter equipped in his helmet, breaking down the barrier as a tsunami breaks down a wooden structure. This tide is death, rot, decay. Unperturbed by this fetid perfume, Adanelie stands, an imposing silhouette in the threshold at the very end of the hall. 

Adanelie, aware now of his master's presence, turns to look over his shoulder and waves, beckoning him to come closer, and so he does. 

"Lookit, master," Adanelie says, voice breathless just before giving way to a coughing fit. He has seen his fair share of dead bodies in varying states of decay. This is normal for him, this is interesting! Beneath the ridges of his helmet, Adaneile is grinning wildly. "Took me a moment t'pry the door! But look, look! See 'er?" 

The knight motions into the dark of the room. Three shadows occupy the space, unmoving, unspeaking. 

"What am I. Looking for. Exactly?" 

"Her! Her, in the middle. The other two are no as interestin'. They're still intact, ye ken, but her!" Adanelie moves further into the room, and Kylo follows him. The body on the bed is more or less a puddle, a dark stain on the light brown of the sheets. Harvester flies buzz helpfully around the body, their larvae squirming atop the exposed skeleton. These decomposers don't stray from their buffet of rotting flesh on the bed, forgoing the two fresh cadavers. Adanelie catches him staring at the woman on the side and her graying hair. "Ach. Tha's Liliandra," he says. Then he motions across the bed. "Sylas is over there, I s'pect. Starved to death, the both of them." 

"Who's the third body?" Kylo asks. "The... melted one." 

"That stench, Master," Adanelie says, ignoring Kylo's inquiry. He's bouncing on his heels as he circles the bed once, then back again. Nervous excitement sends pleasant tingling energy up his spine the closer Adanelie gets and lessens as he walks away. "'Tis a mix of the gasses yer body releases durin' death and decomposition. Ye lose yer bowels, ye ken, when ye--" 

"I know," Kylo says, putting a hand up to stop him from continuing. This isn't the first time Adanelie has gone on about the subject; the cycle of death is his forte, and any chance he feels a spiel about it is taken abruptly. But this is Hux's family. Three fewer people in that lonely little man's life. Pity is an ugly thing, but Kylo cannot help himself. 

_Weak_ , a metallic voice utters. _Pity is a weakness._

"Yes, weel." Adanelie clears his throat. "As I said, they starved t'death. But her, I reckon she died the same way the rest o' the world."

A year ago, Coradonna had been placed under quarantine. A virus spread swiftly, killing all it touched. But this is all the information provided to them by the Supreme Leader. Any files or reports they had thought to find on the holonet are missing many important variables and data regarding the incident, redacted and secured. 

“What the hell--” Titus’ voice comes from the hall. 

“Leave them be!”

Hawke bursts into the room, her face still uncovered by the sound of it. Kylo whirls around and, sure enough, her helmet, her protection, is nowhere to be seen. Kylo links an arm around Hawke’s waist and pulls her back into the hall. 

“Hawke--” he begins, but Hawke doesn't, won't listen. 

"We need to leave them be." Her voice is stern, commanding, upset. This is the Hux's family, her dear friend's relatives. Sadness, ice-cold, seeps into his skin from her touch, radiating down into his veins until it flows effortlessly to his heart and pumped to every part of him. Kylo shivers despite his best efforts and pushes her away. 

"We should burn them," Jera mutters. Hawke moves underneath Jera's arm, where he tucks her, keeping her from springing out to the Talii family and weeping, touching them. Without her mask, she shouldn't even be up here. Adanelie tells them so, but Hawke ignores him. "They should have a funeral of sorts." 

"What, is it an ill omen?" Titus teases. Jera was born to a family of many superstitions, ranging from simple prayers before entering a home to the proximity to the dead. A man of routine was born of these superstitions, and such routines are followed to the letter. Habitual, pristine, neurotic, and constantly teased by Titus. "If we have to give every dead person we encounter a funeral..." 

Without a moment's hesitation, Jera waves his hand, sending Titus back against the wall so hard, the sconces shake. 

"Master!" Titus whines. 

"He started it--" 

"And I'm finishing it," Kylo warns. Titus freezes before he can attempt to retaliate. "You are not _children_ , you are the Knights of Ren. Act the part." 

Hawke sighs, rubbing hard circles on her temple. The skin quickly becomes read with irritation, chafing against the leather glove. "I think, um... I think they'd like that, the finality of it. Not Alisa, though, since we can't move her. She's content." 

"Tomorrow, then," Kylo says sternly. He turns back to stare at the bodies, eyes landing on what remains of Alisa Talii. Helisma's gentle hand finds his back and he shies away, subtly rolling his shoulders. She takes the hint, reluctantly pulling away. "We'll burn them at dawn, and until then," he looks again to Hawke, "the door remains locked." 

The bodies of Liliandra and Sylas Talii lie together on the tree branch pyre Titus built not long ago. As promised to Hawke, Adanelie and Kylo had delivered each body to their final resting place carefully and delicately while she said one final goodbye to Alisa before she was to lock her away. Alisa would find peace in death, or so Hawke tearfully claimed. Kylo does not care too much one way or another; Death is death, Hux’s family or not, an endless abyss, dark and void, where peace is the only option. Leave it to an empath to try and persuade him otherwise. 

As she stands beneath a tree at the head of the pyre, looking down at the Taliis, Kylo sees something metallic catch the sunlight. Of course, of course, she’s snatched a necklace. Something to give to Hux upon their return to the _Finalizer_. Kylo rolls his eyes and sighs. Catching his movement, Hawke tucks the oval pendant beneath her robes.

“The family is absent.” Hawke’s voice is stern and only _just_ loud enough for them to hear. “I will… I will be giving the blessing of the void unto them.” 

Kylo’s lip quirks, curiously. He’s attended First Order funerals before, each one just as dull and impersonal as the last. They spoke of the person's contribution to the Order, hardly anything about them personally. But the talk of the void, that is their tradition. They’d decided on it years ago, when…

No. He will not think of _him_ now.

Hawke speaks of the couple in extraordinary detail, their love affair that dated back to the days of the Empire, their children that they have finally been reunited within the veil of death, and their grandchild they have left behind.

General Vinh L. Hux, now truly, truly alone in the galaxy.

“And to stardust, you will return,” Hawke says in closing, tears in her eyes.

The Knights of Ren reply in kind with a chorus of, “And in stardust, you will rest.”


End file.
